


The Traitor of Azkaban

by HermioneHotchner1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Depressed Severus Snape, Good Severus Snape, Healing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneHotchner1/pseuds/HermioneHotchner1
Summary: They no longer call him by his name, for he is not a person anymore. Locked in a cell, he is more of an object. He is a prisoner. He is a loner. He is a traitor. And nobody denies it. Only he knows the truth. Severus Snape knows he is innocent.





	1. A Look Inside

Cold.

There wasn't much else to describe himself right now. Besides filthy, skinny, and dark, there wasn't much else to it.

Inside and out, he was cold. It was... well, he didn't know what day it was. However, the Minister had done an inspection of the prison the other day, and he had said that it was a few days after New Years.

For all he knew, it could be his birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," he whispered into the nothingness.

His words made a cloud in the air; it was so cold.

Inside and out, he was cold. The prison was on an island in the middle of the North Sea. It was January, and his robes were thin, torn, and baggy. They didn't keep him warm, and there wasn't even a blanket on his filthy cot. Moreover, the window in his cell (which had a lock and three bars) was drafty, and all the food they gave him was cold; it wasn't like he ate it anyway.

There wasn't even light to give a molecule of warmth, and it wasn't as though the Dementors helped at all.

Inside he thought terrible thoughts, but it didn't make much difference. That was all he had thought of when outside of Azkaban.

There was a scream and he sighed. There was a new prisoner - a woman - who screamed nearly every hour. He would try so hard to sleep, but Prisoner #210 would wake him up with her terrifying screams.

He was Severus Snape, High-Security Prisoner #109.

The traitor.

That's what everyone called him now. When some of the human guards came around, he heard them call people. Not by name, not by number, but by crime.

"Stop screaming, you damn murderer!"

"You better not be starving yourself, you thief!"

"I think we better put another dementor by you, traitor!"

On his way to trial, the crowds outside were screaming as he went inside. "Traitor!" they would shout. "He trusted you!"

Oh, damn Dumbledore! He caused this!

No, he thought to himself. You caused this. You chose this, now deal with it.

What else was there to do?

He leant against the ice cold, stone wall.

Perhaps the most painful moment, for him, was when he saw his ex-colleagues in the courtroom. He had brightened for just a moment. Were they here to help him? Did they know he was telling the truth?

But instead, they were there to shout more insults and add more pain. There to tell the court more about just how terrible Severus Snape was.

And Minerva was there; Minerva! His friend - well, not anymore.

Not even Potter would help him anymore. It was just him and his word.

The trial had been going on for a while. Once again, Severus restated his claim and the judge merely laughed.

"You have to believe me!" Severus had burst. The judge laughed even harder.

"Really? Why should we believe you?" the judge demanded. "Not only is your claim so RIDICULOUS that it's funny, but look at you. You lied to the Ministry, the staff at Hogwarts, and the entire Wizarding world about your true loyalty. You betrayed the man who bailed you out of prison the first time. Why should we believe you now? No, we don't. You're a traitor; we don't believe traitors."

Roars of laughter and shouts of curses filled the room.

He had to admit, his claim did sound stupid if he heard it through unknowing ears.

"Dumbledore told me to kill him," Severus tried to explain. "He told me to do it to spare Draco Malfoy and to get me into the Dark Lord's good books. I helped Harry Potter destroy the Horcruxes. I helped you win this war!"

He had! It was true! Yet, it was too hard to believe.

"Someone, help me," he pleaded softly. There was no reply.

All his life, he had been alone. But, whenever he truly needed help, someone was usually there to make an attempt, even a pathetic one. Now, there really was no one. He had to do everything himself.

A tear, a warm tear, slid down his cheek and he shut his eyes, trying to concentrate on the warmth of that tear. But after a few seconds, the tear got cold and eventually froze right on his cheek. He brushed it away and sighed.

He remembered when they had discussed giving him the Dementor's Kiss. Then... he had nearly sobbed at the idea.

Now, it didn't seem so bad compared to what he had got - A lifetime in Azkaban. A lifetime alone with no human contact.

Lovely.

Well, he did speak with the Minister. Because he was one of the highest security prisoners - pardon, THE highest security prisoner - in Azkaban, the Minister wanted to see him. Kingsley Shacklebolt came into his cell and knelt down by him, with two guards holding the prisoner back, although he wasn't going to do anything.

"Hello, Snape. How is Azkaban treating you?" asked Kingsley.

"Terrible, but that's what you want, isn't it?" retorted Severus.

"Still as sarcastic as always, I see," said Kingsley.

"Some things never change," assured Severus.

"You're the best example of that, Snape," said Kingsley. "You want to hurt me, don't you?"

"Why would I?" asked Severus in earnest. "It would only cause me more harm, and it would accomplish nothing good. I'm weak and useless here. Wandless. I can't do anything; not that I want to."

"Hmm... true. Let him go, he's harmless," ordered Kingsley. "Leave the cell. You can stay by the door."

"What do you want with me, Minister?" he inquired.

"I want to talk to you," said Kingsley. "Seven months in Azkaban and you're still as sane as ever. That new prisoner went mad after an hour. How do you do it; stay sane?"

"Sirius Black has taught me some tricks, Minister," said Severus simply. "We have the same method that keeps us sane."

"And what would that be?" questioned Kingsley.

"You would never believe it," stated Severus.

"Try me," prodded Kingsley.

"Alright," he said. "I have one thought that the Dementors cannot suck out of me."

"A happy thought?" asked Kingsley.

"No... Not exactly," said Severus. "Just a thought. Not a bad one, but not a good one either."

"A memory?" he guessed.

"There are many memories that go with this thought," said Severus. "But, it's the thought itself that keeps me sane"

"And that is?" Kingsley asked.

"I'm innocent," he stated.

"No, you're not," accused Kingsley.

"Yes I am," assured Severus. "That's how I keep sane."

"You are going mad," stated Kingsley. "You know you're guilty, you lying bastard. Tell me the truth."

"I told you the truth, Minister," retorted Severus. "And, I also told you that you would not believe me."

"There are witnesses who saw you kill Dumbledore," stated Kingsley.

"Be that as it may, Minister," drawled Severus. "I stand by my claim. I always will."

"Filthy traitor," grumbled Kingsley as he took his leave.

That was all he was to anyone.

But it wasn't the truth; he knew that. That was good enough for him.


	2. Interrogations

Severus couldn't help but think back to his farce of an interrogation.

"State your name," demanded the Interrogator.

"Severus Tobias Snape," stated Severus.

"I will be asking you some questions, Mr. Snape, and you will be answering them with a yes or a no, unless I ask for you to elaborate," he demanded. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," replied Severus.

"You are a follower of Lord Voldemort's... a Death Eater; is that correct?" he asked.

"Yes," admitted Severus.

"And how old were you when you... ahem, took the mark?" he questioned.

"Seventeen," said Severus.

"A bit young, don't you think?" accused the interrogator.

"Yes," admitted Severus.

"Why did you take the mark at such a young age?" he questioned.

"He requested I take it," stated Severus.

"Who requested it?" asked the interrogator.

"The Dark Lord," admitted Severus.

"Ah, and you obliged, obviously?" he accused.

"Yes," mumbled Severus.

"And tell us, Snape, do you believe that anyone who was initiated around the same time as you was put under the Imperius Curse?" he asked.

"I severely doubt that," stated Severus.

"Why so?" he inquired.

"Because none of the Death Eaters are forced into it - unless they are the offspring of another Death Eater," informed Severus. "You are recommended to the Dark Lord or he requests to see you, but no one is forced in."

"So do you believe that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Mulciber, and Travis all joined out of free will?" the interrogator questioned.

"Crabbe and Goyle - no," admitted Severus. "Their fathers forced them into it, but they rebelled none. Travis, Avery, and Mulciber - absolutely."

"And Malfoy?" he asked.

"What does it matter?" questioned Severus. "Last I heard he was being bailed out by Harry Potter?"

"Mind you, Snape, that there are three Dementors right outside this door," he said, "and that if you choose to hold your sarcasm and answer these questions wisely, you may be freed."

"No," stated Severus. "I'm not going to be freed. You know that as well as I, but continue."

"Very well. Now, to the death toll," he stated. "Undoubtedly, you have killed many people, Snape. I am going to name some people, and you will say yes or no. Understood?"

"Yes," said Severus.

"Margaret, Robert, and Millecent Foster- ages 30, 34, and 6," he stated. "Muggles."

"No," replied Severus.

"Rebecca Mandalin, age 27, witch," he asked.

"No," said Severus.

"Hank Walters, age 43, wizard," he asked.

"No," assured Severus.

"Elizabeth Knightly, age 88, Squib," he asked.

"No," stated Severus.

"Markus Kolarek, age 72, wizard," he asked.

"Self-defence," stated Severus growing irritated; this was during the First Wizarding War, and had already been dealt with legally.

"Albus Dumbledore, wizard," he asked.

"Nice of you not to mention the age," retorted Severus.

"Answer the question, goddammit!" the interrogator yelled.

"Yes, I killed him," admitted Severus. "Against my will, but yes, I killed him."

"Against your will! Ha!" he said in disbelief.

"Believe what you wish," replied Severus.

"Charity Burbage, age 31, witch," he asked.

"No," stated Severus.

"Were you witness to any of these?" demanded the interrogator.

"Yes," said Severus. "Hank Walter, and Charity Burbage"

"Do you know who killed them?" he asked.

"The Dark Lord murdered them both," informed Severus.

"I see. And you deny any other killing?" he demanded.

"Killing was reserved for those in the inner circle, which I was not a part of until later on," explained Severus. "I had already changed sides by then and was a spy. I was not placed on many other missions. I have not killed anyone accept Albus Dumbledore."

"What a grand finale to your criminal record, eh Snape?" he accused. "However, it seems you are being charged for more than just your alliance to Lord Voldemort and the murder of Dumbledore. You've done a nice bit of torturing, am I right?

"Unfortunately, you are," admitted Severus.

"How many people do you think you have tortured?" the interrogator demanded.

"At least ten," informed Severus. "But, it is mandatory for one to torture someone to become a Death Eater; so, if I am being charged for torture, then every single Death Eater should be as well."

"You're a different case, Snape," he stated.

"I do believe I said _should_ ," retorted Severus. "I didn't say _would_."

"This Ministry isn't corrupt, Snape," he said defensively. "You only think that because you, like all the other shits that come through these doors, think that your punishment is unfair and undeserving."

"You're wrong," Severus stated simply.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

"I don't think that this is unfair," admitted Severus.

"What... now listen here -" he defended.

"Are you not supposed to be asking me more questions or is this interrogation through?" questioned Severus, now evidently irritated.

"Yes, we're finished," the interrogator replied. "Your public trial will be held Saturday next, and don't expect release."

"I'm not," said Severus.


	3. Questions

He was lying in the middle of the floor, deep in sleep. It was rare for him to sleep since the intense cold usually kept him up. And even when he did, he had nightmare after nightmare. There was no escape from the torturous hell he lived in. He felt betrayed - after all the work and effort and time and pain and tears and blood he had put into this war, the people he helped win the war turned against him and through him in prison for the rest of his life.

He knew they knew no better, but why hadn't Dumbledore made sure that if this were to happen, someone would be able to have him released? He knew there was no reason to complain now - it was done. All his hope of escaping was gone.

The scream from the girl down the corridor woke him up. He sighed. Someone needed to calm her down. His memories were probably worse than hers, yet she always screamed so terribly. He sat up and stretched, looking up at the ceiling. He counted the spiders - three today - and looked around his cell again. There wasn't much to do on a day to day basis.

One of the guards came up to his cell and started to laugh. The taunting he received was another thing that made his life worse.

"Hello, traitor," the guard jeered. "Tell me, Mr. "I'm Innocent", why don't you pull a Sirius Black? He was innocent and that's how he escaped."

He said nothing, knowing that nothing would help. He couldn't "pull a Sirius Black." He wasn't a bloody Animagus!

"That's what I thought," the guard cackled. "You're as innocent as Voldemort himself!"

Severus couldn't help it - he flinched - making the guard laugh even harder. The guard walked off, his laughter booming down the hall.

He curled himself up in a ball in the corner. It wasn't just to block out the cold, but to try and hide from the cold, cruel world. He sometimes wanted to break down sobbing, but he knew that the human guards would give him such a hard time if he did.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He put his hand on the cold floor, then brought it back up. His wrist was sore and the floor was like ice. He looked at his arm. He had gotten thinner - he could even feel his ribs when he ran his hand over his stomach.

He was breaking down and everybody knew it. It wouldn't be long until he would wither away and die or go insane. But he clung to the same thought - I'm innocent, I'm innocent. It was what he survived on. It was what he clung onto.

It was everything!

What he didn't know was that at that very moment his former colleague was beginning to put the pieces together.

"Professor McGonagall… are you sure this is what it seems to be?" the Minister said, rereading the piece of paper again.

"I'm positive - I found it in his office today and I even asked his portrait," said Minerva. "It's the truth. You know I would never forge something like this - I believe he deserves it."

"The memories… There are memories in Dumbledore's Pensieve?" Kingsley questioned.

"I have not yet looked at them - I thought it'd be wiser to show you this first, Minister," replied Minerva.

"Headmistress, we will have this note checked thoroughly," the Minister stated. "Then we will go to Hogwarts and speak to Dumbledore and look at the memories and check those as well."

"I understand - something like this is indeed very serious," said Minerva.

"It is," he agreed. "If we just release him... we may have to do another trial - the public will not be pleased though."

Minerva sighed.

"But let us say that he is innocent," said Minerva. "You would keep him Azkaban if you thought the public would be displeased?"

"It depends," admitted Kingsley. "Having a convicted murderer roaming free would cause such an uproar. The Wizengamot –"

"But if he's innocent-!" cried Minerva.

"Oh, Minerva, see sense!" exclaimed Kingsley. "He probably isn't. Let us save tomorrow's problems for tomorrow. Thank you for showing me this."

She nodded and stood up. They shook hands and she walked towards the door. She stopped, then turned around.

"I hope, whatever this comes to, that the decision is just," said Minerva. "I have no reason to favour Severus Snape's freedom - but if this is true, then he should be freed." With that she left.

The Minister sat down with a beaker of elf-made wine and reread the note again and again.

Little did they know that they were being eavesdropped on.

"Dumbledore," said one of the portraits. "I have a lovely portrait right outside the Minister of Magic's door and I just heard Minerva McGonagall show him a note about Severus Snape!"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Indeed, she did," replied Dumbledore.

"But then… I don't understand," the portrait said. "Are you to tell us you believe him innocent?"

"Oh, I do not believe it - I know him innocent," stated Dumbledore. "He's as innocent as the next man."

"But Albus!" said another. "He murdered you!"

"Were none of you here when Severus was Headmaster?" prodded Dumbledore. "Did none of you ever hear the conversations we had, even when I was alive?"

"I did," said Phineas Nigellus. "Dumbledore is right. That boy is innocent; it's prejudice towards Slytherin House, I say!"

"Oh shut up, Phineas!" said another portrait. "Most of us were considerate of Dumbledore's private conversations and did not hear. Even so, if after all Snape has done and Dumbledore still believes him innocent, then perhaps he is."

Before the other portraits could start shouting back, Minerva walked in.

"Hello, Minerva," said Dumbledore.

"Albus," she said. "Is this a hoax? Or is it real? Do you think Severus really is innocent?"

"I know he is, Minerva," Dumbledore said, smiling warmly. "If I didn't, I would have him kept in that cell where he could do no harm."

"That's just the thing," said Minerva. "The Ministry is considering keeping him in Azkaban innocent or not!"

The smile did not fade from Dumbledore's face.

"Do not stress over it, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "I promised Severus long ago that one day, he would get his peace. I do not intend to break that promise. In the end, things will be all right."

Minerva took out her beaker of scotch and took a gulp, then set it down. She collapsed in her chair.

"I suppose you're right, Albus," replied Minerva. "But, I do hope he is done justice, if this is true. I trust you, Albus."

"And I trust you as well, Minerva," assured Dumbledore.


	4. the Visitor

Before long Minerva McGonagall was entering somewhere she never thought she would.

"Professor, yeh don' look so good...yeh sure yeh wanna see 'im?" asked the guard.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," assured Minerva. "It's just extremely cold in here."

"Yep. It's always col' in 'ere, with the Dementors an' all," explained the guard, "but it's mighty col' durin' winter, that's fer sure."

Minerva clutched her cloak tightly around her as she followed one of the human guards down the dark, depressing corridors of Azkaban prison.

"And the prisoners - do they get anything during winter to keep them warm?" she questioned.

The guard laughed cruelly.

"Naw, the point fer them to come 'ere is fer them to suffer," he stated. "Yeh ain' sufferin' if yer nice an' warm in yer cell, now are yeh?"

"So you mean to tell me that they just sit in this cold all winter?" she asked completely shocked. She knew that the treatment here was brutal, but she never thought it was this bad. "The poor people..."

"They ain' people!" he snipped. "They're criminals! An' watch yer step, Professor, we're goin' up to the high security level."

"So what's the difference between the high security level and the rest of Azkaban?" Minerva asked.

"High security prisoners usually are in fer life," he explained. "They've got 'em Dementors watchin' 'em all day an' night. Usually two per cell. Some've got three, others one. The regulars usually get 'bout ten hour breaks from 'em."

They reached the high security level, which was much colder and she could feel the presence of the dementors more than ever. She tried not to look at the prisoners, but she couldn't help it. Some were asleep, curled up into tiny balls on the floor. Others were slumped against the wall, grinning madly or muttering to themselves; one even stuck the finger at her. But they were all dirty, cold, and miserable. And to think Severus was one of them...

There was a blood curling scream and Minerva gasped.

"What is that? It sounds like a banshee!" she exclaimed.

"It's a new prisoner," he said as he stopped in front of a cell. "Shut up!"

She looked into the cell to see a young woman with filthy blonde hair. She looked empty and scared and demented. She sincerely hoped Severus was not like that.

They walked a few paces more before stopping in front of a cell that was guarded by three dementors. The guard hissed at the dementors and they glided away. Minerva was scared to look into the cell, so she kept her eyes on the prison guard.

"He's an odd one... Been 'ere for nearly a year an' a half, an' he ain' gone mad yet. Just sits in the corner," he said. At this Minerva sighed with relief. The prison guard banged a pole against the gate of the cell. "Hey, traitor, yeh've got a visitor."

Minerva slowly walked in front of the cell and looked inside. There he was, barely much more than a shadow, dirty and cold, sitting in the corner. His knees were to his chest and his hair was hanging in curtains around his face. He looked up at her, his face a ghostly white. He was extremely thin - they obviously didn't feed him very much. And to think he might be innocent...

"Hello, Severus," she said, keeping her voice soft, not wanting to scare him.

"Minerva," greeted Severus clearing his throat. He looked into her eyes. His eyes never changed. They were the same black, brilliant eyes they were the last time she saw him.

The prison guard unlocked the gate and opened it. He gave her a tiny push, as though Severus may try and escape while the gate was open. She walked inside and he shut and locked the door behind her. "I'll be back in twen'y minutes." He gave Severus a glare. "Behave." Then he left.

"I absolutely despise that awful, brutal, rude, hunk of a man and his improper grammar!" Minerva huffed. Severus smirked.

"Yes, he isn't too wonderful," admitted Severus. His voice and his speech had not been flawed. In fact, he seemed perfectly sane and aware of everything going on.

She smiled.

"How are you, Severus?" she asked.

"As well as you can expect," retorted Severus.

"You seem much better than the rest of the prisoners I passed on my way here," admitted Minerva.

He gave a tiny shrug. She sat down on the floor besides him and he looked at her, curiously.

"Minerva, why are you here?" he questioned. "I thought you wanted me dead."

She looked uneasy, then said, "Severus, we found a note that Albus wrote before his...death...that explained everything. We found a vial of his memories of you and him and it all explains the truth. His portrait has always said you were innocent, but no one is going to take the words of a dead man's portrait seriously."

"So now you believe me?" he said, and she could detect hurt in his words.

"I believe you," assured Minerva. "Some of the Ministry believes you. But that's not enough to get you out. They're holding another trial for you, with the new evidence."

"When?" he asked.

"In about a month," she said. She looked into his eyes again, and for once, there was a bit of hope. That was something that had long since left them.

"So I have a chance of... of being free?" he whispered. She felt her heart break for him.

"Well... the Minister made it clear to me that... even if you are proved innocent... they may still keep you in Azkaban," she admitted. It was hard to tell him.

Fear automatically rushed onto the pale face.

"What? But I'm innocent!" Severus cried. "They can't do that! Why would they do that?"

"Because they think letting you out will cause too much havoc and protests," she said sadly.

Snape looked down at the floor for a few minutes. He was innocent and yet, they would not release him. They would keep putting him through such torture. They would continue to keep him in this horrid place just to keep their public happy. What had he done to deserve such treatment?

"The Headmaster made a promise to me that I would get peace," he said quietly and Minerva nodded. Albus had told her that.

"I know," said Minerva. "He told me just recently."

He looked at her again.

"He told you about the promise?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she said. "He also said he intends to keep it."

He looked a bit surprised.

"I didn't think he remembered," admitted Severus as he faded off. Then he sighed. "It's hopeless, Minerva. I'll never be free. I'll never get my peace. And it's not the Headmaster's fault. He didn't know it would come to this."

"Severus, you can't give up," encouraged Minerva.

"I already gave up. Over a year ago when they arrested me," said Severus solemnly.

"Severus, I don't know what you're planning to do," Minerva said, her voice stern, obviously getting his attention. "But I intend to fight for justice to the end. This is unfair to you because you're being held captive when you're innocent. It is a crime and it is unjust. I don't care what it takes - you will be out of Azkaban if I have anything to do with it."

He looked at her the same way he had looked at Dumbledore so many years ago when the man had told that he would give him another chance at life.

"Why are you going to put yourself through so much trouble?" demanded Severus. "Why are you going to such lengths for me?"

"Because, Severus, you did so much for us during the war," she said. "You risked your life for us and now this is what you get for it? You're a hero. And not only that, Severus, but you're my friend. You've always been my friend, and you don't know what I felt when I heard you killed Albus. I felt betrayed, but, now I know you're innocent, which is something I always hoped you were. I'm willing to go to any length to help you now."

He looked at her and slowly shook his head.

"You're mad, Minerva, in every sense of the word," he stated.

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm.

"It's called love, Severus," said Minerva. "The love of a friend."

"I'm glad I have that in you," Severus said, giving a small smile. "You have it in me."

"Glad to hear it," she said. She looked him over. "You've gotten so thin... well, thinner. If Poppy could see you - she'd throw a fit! Do they feed you?"

"Yes," said Severus, "but the food's disgusting. I usually don't bother eating it."

"Obviously," stated Minerva. "You should, Severus." She stood up and looked out the barred window, out to the rough and crashing sea. "Is it always this stormy?"

"Always," said Severus.

"And this cold?" she asked.

"It gets a bit warmer during the summer months," said Severus. "But this is the general temperature, yes."

"How on earth do you keep sane and stay alive in this cold, with the dementors, barely sleeping, rarely eating, all alone, and in the dark?" she asked; she knew she would have definitely gone mad by now if she were him.

"I just keep thinking the same thing every time I feel like screaming or I feel insanity creeping in," admitted Severus. "I just keep thinking it until I've calmed down and it always works."

"And what is that?" she asked, curious to know his little secret.

He looked up at her, his black eyes glittering in the darkness.

"I'm innocent," he said simply.


	5. Ad Cognoscendam Veritatem

"So have you heard?" Hermione asked one morning at breakfast.

She, Ron, Harry, and Ginny were at the Burrow for a few days, as well as Percy, George, Bill, Fleur, and a few others. Ron and Harry were glad to have a break to go back home from Auror training. After the war, the Ministry had stated that anyone who wished to be an Auror, had graduated from Hogwarts in the last seven years, or was going to graduate in the next three, and had been a part of the war was eligible to become an Auror after just one year of training.

Hermione and Ginny had recently finished with seventh year and while Ginny went on to play professional Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies, Hermione went into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Heard what?" Ron said, stuffing a muffin in his mouth. Hermione gave him a look of disgust before looking down at the Daily Prophet in front of her.

"They're giving Snape another trial," Hermione continued, scanning the article again. Ron spit out half of his muffin and Harry and Ginny looked dumbfounded.

"What?" Ron said, not bothering to wipe his face.

"Ronald, you are utterly disgusting!" Hermione said, wiping his face with a napkin. He nudged her away.

"Why are they giving Snape another trial?" Harry asked, who could feel the anger building up inside of him. "He's obviously guilty!"

Hermione glanced back at the article.

"Apparently they found some new evidence that Snape was still on our side," she explained.

"Like?" asked Ginny.

"Memories - Dumbledore's memories - that were found in the Pensieve in his office," informed Hermione.

"How can they be sure they were Dumbledore's?" Ron questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Couldn't they just be some of Snape's memories with Dumbledore's that were tampered with?"

"The Ministry's got plenty of ways to check that," Hermione explained. "They've been inspecting the memories and so far, they've found that they weren't tampered with at all and that they were Dumbledore's. However, memories alone cannot stand as solid evidence in a trial."

Hermione sipped some of her coffee and continued to read the article.

"So what else have they found?" asked Harry. He was curious as he knew that the Ministry would never hold another trial for Snape if they weren't truly doubting his loyalties to Voldemort.

"A note written by Dumbledore himself from before his death," Hermione said. "They printed a bit of it in the article!"

She was fascinated - a note written by Dumbledore. Anything of Dumbledore's - or any of those killed in the war - was so interesting now.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!" said Ron who was nearly falling off his chair. Hermione sighed.

"Relax, Ron!" said Hermione. "And I quote, _'On this day, 15 July, 1996, I, Albus Dumbledore, have asked Severus Snape to murder me. I know that if he survives this war, there will be no one willing or brave enough to vouch for him and I request that this note, if found, be used as solid evidence in his favour.'_ That's all they put in the article - it says the rest if about what Snape did and his loyalties to the Order, etc." She closed the paper.

"Bloody hell, a note from Dumbledore vouching for Snape... amazing," said Ron.

"Do you think it's a fake?" asked Ginny.

"Couldn't be," said Hermione. "It had the Headmaster's seal on it, according to the Prophet."

"But Snape was also Headmaster," Harry pointed out.

"The Headmaster's seal changes for each Headmaster and only the Headmaster himself can use it," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore's and Snape's were two different seals and if Snape tried and used Dumbledore's when he was still alive, it wouldn't have worked."

"Maybe Snape forced Dumbledore to use the seal -" interjected Ron.

"Dumbledore wouldn't do that," said Harry. "If Hermione's right and only Dumbledore could have put the seal on the letter, then that letter was written by Dumbledore."

"The Imperius Curse?" asked Ginny.

"I doubt it," said Harry. "Maybe it's true. Maybe Snape was on our side the whole time. He was a brilliant actor if that's true."

"I think we should help him," Hermione said. "We could collect a bunch of evidence - memories, events, documents - that he was on our side."

"Like?" Harry asked.

"The amount of times he saved your life," said Ginny, conjuring a piece of parchment and a quill. "Here Hermione. Let's think of some things that would help prove he was on our side."

It surprised them all of how many things they could think of that Severus Snape had done for them.

"This isn't enough," said Hermione. "Sure we can testify, but isn't there anything else that proves how much information he gave us?"

"Those reports that Snape made!" said Ginny. "The ones Sirius used to complain about!"

"What if they were only oral reports?" Harry wondered aloud.

"I doubt it," said Hermione. "They would want to have it all written down somewhere; in case they needed it or something happened."

"I reckon they would be in the Order archive upstairs in the attic then, wouldn't they?" Ron stated.

"Brilliant, Ron!" said Hermione, giving him a peck on the cheek. He turned red, then grinned.

"Well, you know, I-" Ron stammered.

"Should we go look for them?" interrupted Harry, and Ron gave him a glare.

"We should," said Hermione. "I think it'd be best if we gathered up all our evidence - maybe even some people to testify as well. Then you two can ask Kingsley when his trial is being held."

So the four of them headed upstairs to the Order archive in the attic. Most of the reports were done by Moody, Kingsley, Tonks, and others who worked at the Ministry. However, he did find a few later reports done by Remus about the werewolves. Harry felt a bit melancholy when he saw Remus's name, and Tonks and Mad-Eye's names.

"I've found three reports done by Snape about Voldemort's plans from the summer of 1995," said Hermione, placing them neatly into a pile. Ginny walked over holding two more.

"This is from the school year after that summer," she said as she put them with the others.

"Why so little during the school year?" asked Ron, who was looking through a box with reports from the summer before sixth year.

"Voldemort didn't make many moves that year, besides the attack on Dad and in the Department of Mysteries," Ginny pointed out.

"I've found only one from our sixth year," said Harry from across the room.

"Now that's odd..." Hermione said, sitting down, obviously in deep thought.

"Not really," said Ron. "After all, during the year, everything was surrounded on Malfoy killing Dumbledore and random attacks on Muggles. Plus if Snape had been told to kill Dumbledore that summer, then I reckon he might of had too much on his mind to write a gazillion reports."

"Ronald, what has gotten into you?" Hermione exclaimed, laughing. "You've been so clever this morning!"

"So surprised..." muttered Ron.

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Here," he said handing Hermione a report. "It's from the summer of 1996."

Hermione counted.

"Great! We've got seven reports that he wrote. I hope this works," said Hermione excitedly.

"It surprises me how we trust an article in the Prophet..." Harry said, sitting down beside Hermione. "And Snape, of course. But I guess that's a good sign."

"So now we've got our own testimonies and his reports," said Ginny. "Now we should find some other people to testify."

"We don't need too many," Ron said with a smile. "We've got the Chosen One on our team. That ought to help." Hermione whacked his arm and he grimaced, making Ginny laugh.

"We should ask Kingsley and McGonagall," Hermione suggested. "They're in positions of power and I bet they'd help if we persuaded them."

"Your dad could as well," said Harry to Ginny and she nodded.

Ron leaned back and put an arm around Hermione.

"We're so brilliant," said Ron proudly. "Nobody else could have done all of this in- what? Two hours? We're bloody amazing."

Everyone couldn't help but grin. Hopefully their work would pay off.


	6. The Verdict

A month later the trial had finally arrived.

The main courtroom (or theatre as Severus preferred to call it) - Courtroom 10 - was filled to the brim. Severus Snape was chained in the centre of the room, wearing his wide striped prisoner's robe, which hung from his lean frame. He stretched up out of his chair just a little bit, ignoring the painfully tightening chains.

But the most vilified man of the British, post-Voldemort, wizarding world wasn't alone; not this time. Not far from him were two young heroes, defying the crowd and Wizengamot to go against them. Harry Potter shortly took a seat closer to Minister Shacklebolt; Hermione Granger remained standing, raising her chin and eyes proudly.

Additionally, several of the Hogwarts staff and Order were sitting in the front row.

The prosecutor for the Ministry, Gawain Robards, caught his eye as he left his station and went and stood before the Wizengamot.

"Order," called Kingsley.

The room finally heard and quieted. Robards glared at Hermione as if his will alone would drive her away to a seat. Unfortunately for him, it didn't work.

"And you are?" the Chief Warlock asked.

"Hermione Jean Granger," said Hermione. "Witness for the defence."

"I see," he replied. "Take a seat"

At this, he gestured to the empty chair a few feet away, in the centre of the room.

Finally, the preceding started, and Granger presented his reports made to the Order. This surprised Severus as he didn't think anyone would have bothered to look in the disaster space, which was apparently a storage room.

They then discussed the letter, and a phial was emptied into the stone basin.

Severus closed his eyes to avoid seeing Lily rise from the Pensieve. He felt in many respects that he deserved Azkaban, as much as he hated it. He wanted to stop feeling so guilty and angry.

Then there was Albus... Severus heard his memories of the old fool and felt the contradictory feelings attached to them. He hated what Albus had done to his already miserable life, and yet, Severus had still thought him something like a grandfather. He was his mentor.

He was loyal to him to a fault, and that's what got him his stint in Azkaban.

Minerva eventually took the stand and explained about how he refused to attack her, how he had vetoed the Carrows' punishments as often as possible, to make things easier on the students. She told of how he had gone as far as to take completely over the punishments of the Dumbledore's Army students, to protect them from the Carrows. Moreover, he had warned the staff on multiple occasions not to publically challenge him, as it would force his hand.

If they had any major problems, they were to come to him, privately.

When asked about this Severus just explained that as he was unable to openly protect the students, he needed the other teachers there to do it. If they overly forced his hand, and word got out, he would have been forced to remove them from the staff.

This was undesirable. Not only had he worked with them for years, but the students knew and trusted them. He also trusted them to do everything they could to protect the students. If he removed any of the staff, they would have no doubt been replaced by a Death Eater or at the very least a sympathiser.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to speak on behalf of the accused?" asked the Chief Warlock.

"I do," said Harry Potter standing up. Many people in the audience gasped.

"You wanted him tried for his crimes!" exclaimed Robards.

"That was before I knew what I know now," said Harry.

"Please, proceed," said Kingsley kindly.

"This man has made many mistakes," he said. "On the other hand, he has spent years trying to rectify them."

Severus couldn't help but wonder if Potter actually believed it. He hoped he did.

"Not only did he help place my family in hiding, to protect them, but he made a vow to Dumbledore to protect me, in my mother's memory," said Harry. "He lived up to that vow."

"He hated you, and had no qualms about showing it," stated Robards.

"He had his reasons for how he acted," stated Harry. "It's not cut and dry. Actually, he secretly protected me for years."

Suddenly Madam Bones raised her hand to get his attention.

"How so?" asked Amelia.

"He went out of his way, all through my schooling, and during his tenure as Headmaster to protect me," said Harry. "In my first year, he protected me from not only Voldemort but a teacher who was trying to kill me. In my second year, he tried to defend me even though the rest of the school thought that I was a dark wizard. In my third year, he shielded my friends and me from a werewolf, even though I had just attacked the Professor. In my fourth year, he used Veritaserum and discovered that there was an undercover Death Eater at Hogwarts, who had enrolled me in the Triwizard Tournament in an attempt to get to me."

"Are you referring to Barty Crouch Jr.?" prodded Kingsley, and Harry knew he was being led.

"Yes," said Harry. "He was under Polyjuice as the Auror, Mad-eye Moody. I know for a fact he gave Mr Snape an exceedingly hard time that year, threatening him, and stealing from his potions stores. I overheard some of these confrontations."

"Is this true?" Madam Bones asked, turning to him.

"Yes," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

At this several people looked shocked.

"Elaborate if you would, Mr Snape," requested Kingsley.

"He continuously claimed he had the right to search my belongings, and that he didn't trust me," continued Severus. "This caused several incidents during the course of that year."

"Continue if you would, Mr Potter," requested the Chief Warlock.

"In my 5th year I believed that my godfather, Sirius, was in danger," continued Harry. "When Professor Snape walked into the room I was in, I used a nickname for Sirius, Padfoot, which I knew he would understand."

"What do you mean?" inquired Madam Bones.

"My father and his friends were part of a gang, called the Marauders," explained Harry. "They each gave themselves a name, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Only people who personally knew them would understand the names. Professor Snape was the only one there at the time, besides my friends, who would know whom I was referring to."

"I see," she said.

"He then secretly contacted my godfather, and sent for help," stated Harry. "If he hadn't contacted Dumbledore I would have died. I was face to face with Voldemort when Dumbledore and the Order finally got there; they showed up just in time."

Severus was evidently surprised at this. He hadn't thought that the boy had figured out what happened, and why he had brushed him off, and left; what he intended to do.

"You lot were thoroughly surrounded," said Kingsley. "Even with the Order there, it was a challenge."

"Exactly," said Harry. "We were just far too outnumbered."

"Anything else?" the Chief Warlock asked.

"Just this," said Harry. "As for what he did in following years, you've witnessed the memories in the Pensieve. We wouldn't have won the war without him. Without his actions, I would not have had the Sword of Gryffindor, and I wouldn't have been able to destroy some of the Horcruxes. His actions also allowed me to take possession of Voldemort's wand, allowing me to overpower him and win. The wand Voldemort was using was, in every way that mattered, mine."

"A change of elegances," another one of the Wizengamot said.

"Yes," said Harry. "One last thing, as Hermione Granger said, in the Muggle World this situation would be called Euthanasia. As much as I dislike it, please take this into account. Dumbledore was weak and dying. He planned his own death, and Professor Snape saved at least two lives doing what he did."

"Very well," said the Chief Warlock. "I believe we have enough information to come to a fair decision. Let's proceed to the verdict."

Severus went cold. It actually seemed somewhat possible, and he knew that he wanted his freedom. He wanted to leave his past behind. The Wizengamot was deliberating, and Severus's eyes were blurred.

"Have you reached a decision?" the Warlock asked.

"Yes," said a short, brown-haired lady.

"Very well," said the Chief Warlock. "All those in favour of keeping the charges of the accused?"

Severus watched anxiously as hands started to go up.

"And all those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" the Chief Warlock asked.

To Severus's awe, many hands shot up, including those of Madam Bones, and Shacklebolt.

"Cleared of all charges!" the Chief Warlock declared. The chains clicked open on Severus's wrists and ankles. "You're granted a full pardon from the Ministry of Magic and an official apology. Your vaults, which were ceased, will be released. We also grant you full Wizard privileges."

He got up from the chair and made a point of thanking Potter, Granger and Weasley. He didn't like it, but he was pretty sure they were the only reason he was out; particularly Potter.

He then started making his way to the exit. Draco had caught his attention, however, and he walked over.

"Draco," said Severus by way of greeting.

"Uncle Sev," said Draco sheepishly. "I well… I thought it would prudent to congratulate you."

"Thank you," said Severus with a curt nod. "Anything else?"

"I'm sorry," said Draco. "Everything that happened –"

Severus had to admit he was a bit surprised. The young boy – no man - really had grown.

"Alea iacta est, Dragon," said Severus.

Draco just nodded.

"Scio! Still, that vow-" said Draco. "I hadn't thought you were serious."

"I know," said Severus.

"I brought these," said Draco with a set of robes in his hand. "I thought you might want them, instead of those atrocious robes."

Severus took them with a nod, and then couldn't help but smirk.

Their conversation continued for a few moments more before Severus went back to making his way to the exit. He hadn't got far before Minerva put her hand on his shoulder.

Schooling his expression, he turned around to face his former colleague.

"Congratulations Severus," said Minerva smiling.

Severus a curt nod, before finding his voice.

"Thank you," he said.

"I am just doing what I should have done the first time," said Minerva. "What are you planning on doing now that you're free?"

"I honestly don't know," admitted Severus.

"Horace wants to retire in June," said Minerva. "It's more vital than ever that we have a good Head of Slytherin; someone to help rebuild Hogwarts."

"Are you actually suggesting what I think you are Minerva?" drawled Severus with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes," she said sharply. "The Defence or Potions post is there if you want it."

"Are you serious?" questioned Severus.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't," assured Minerva.

"After everything?" Severus questioned. He really wasn't used to them being on apparently good terms once more.

"You know your craft inside and out," said Minerva.

"Can I consider it?" replied Severus.

Truthfully, he wanted to accept it. Hogwarts was his home, and he hadn't thought that he would live past the war. He really didn't know what to do now.

"By all means," said Minerva. "Personally, I think you'll be a great Defence instructor."

"Quite sure I'll accept, are you?" he said.

"Are you going to prove me wrong?" a teasing lilt in her voice.

Severus said nothing.

"Here," said Minerva. "I brought a set of robes for you, but I see that young Mr Malfoy thought of it as well."

"Indeed," said Severus, taking the pile.

"Do let me know what you decide, won't you," said Minerva. "I do hope you'll accept."

Severus considered this for a moment. Would it be worth it? What else would he do?

He could see a hopeful look in her eyes, though, and resigned. He made up his mind.

"I accept," he said after a moment. "And yes, the Defence post."

"I figured as much," Minerva said with a grin.

Severus then made his way to the door, into the corridor. As he walked he could have sworn that he heard Minerva whisper something behind him. "Welcome home, Severus."


	7. The Alley

It had been a couple days since Severus had regained his freedom, and he had spent the last few days at Spinner's End. He hadn't so much as contacted anybody since he agreed to take up the post at Hogwarts in a few months' time. He supposed he should eventually, but he really wanted some time to himself.

He hadn't even gone into Diagon Alley to get a new wand, as his old one had been snapped upon his initial conviction. He would need do that soon, but he hadn't had the desire to be in one of the most crowded places in the British Wizarding World. He had never been overly social, and after over a year in a cell, well, he just wasn't used to crowds at all any more.

He spent a lot of time checking out his private potions stores lately, as well as cleaning most of the house. He also had to tidy up his library and some boxes of papers, as the Aurors evidently fished through his house looking for evidence against him.

Finally, Severus decided that it was time to go purchase a new wand. Luckily for him, he knew Wizarding London exceedingly well, so it wasn't hard for him to pop up in one of the quieter areas of the Alley and make his way to Ollivander's. He just wanted to get in and out.

He was so focused, that he simply didn't acknowledge most of the dirty looks he was receiving. Unsurprisingly, whispers followed him as well.

The shop was still as narrow and shabby as Severus remembered it. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. It was just as Severus remembered it; a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair near the window. Severus felt strangely uncomfortable; the last time he saw Ollivander he was a prisoner. He quickly used his Occlumency, to try and relax himself, and glanced at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Severus looked up.

The old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Good afternoon," drawled Severus.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Mr. Snape." It wasn't a question. "Ash, ten inches, rather springy, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," said Severus exasperated.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half last year?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Yes," said Severus through gritted teeth. He did not appreciate his incarceration being thrown in his face. "Might I suggest we get on with this? I have other things to do today as well, if it's all the same to you, Ollivander."

"Very well," agreed Mr. Ollivander shaking his head.

"Fantastic," drawled Severus.

"Now - Mr. Snape," he said as he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Hold out your wand arm."

Severus raised his right hand.

The tape measure began to measure Severus from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Snape. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible."

Severus took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Walnut and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite rigid," said Mr. Ollivander. "Try-"

Severus tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no - here," said Mr. Ollivander. "Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy."

Severus took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

"Yes, indeed, nice fit," said Mr. Ollivander.

Severus glared at Ollivander, and paid seven gold Galleons for his wand. He was just about to exit the shop, when he was stopped.

"One last thing, Mr. Snape," said Mr. Ollivander.

"What is it?" drawled Severus.

"It's one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody," said Mr. Ollivander walking closer to Severus. "That includes yourself, hmmm."

Severus just looked at him stunned.

"I assure you, that I have no idea what you're talking about," said Severus.

"I've also found that the best lies are the ones we tell ourselves," stated Mr. Ollivander before shoeing him out of the shop.

Severus didn't hesitate to take his leave.

Back at Spinner's End Severus immediately start scoffing to himself. Ollivander had no idea of what he was talking about.

The senile old coot really needed to keep his nose in his own business.

Severus had done horrible things in his life, and he bloody well knew it. He didn't need Ollivander to bring up how badly he screwed up his life. The Hogwarts staff, Azkaban guards, and Dementors did just a fine job on their own. Not that he hadn't already known.

"Damn you, Dumbledore!" hissed Severus. "Why did you have to ask too much?"

He definitely had a love-hate relationship with his former mentor. As much as he admired the man, he didn't know if he'd ever forgive the man for making him cast the curse.

Deciding that he wasn't hungry, he pulled out some of Ogden's finest, and sat in his lounge chair.

A couple hours later he yawned and went to his potion stores, taking out a vial of Dreamless Sleep that he had discovered stashed away. He knew full well that it was the only way he'd get any sleep.

He changed into his nightwear and tipped the vile to his lips. Laying back in bed, he relaxed, as the world faded, and a deep, dreamless sleep consumed him.


	8. Noxam Maximum

As weeks turned into months, things were still rough going.

The prisoners were supposed to be allowed to wash themselves sporadically, but his turn seldom came. For months on end the only water he had really seen was the cup that came with his meagre meals.

Now, not even when he had scrubbed his skin raw, did he feel like it was enough.

He would be moving back into Hogwarts this week, and he was still torn. The place was more home than anywhere else had been for him, but so much had happened there.

That night Severus woke up with a start. He was momentarily startled by a scream, before he realized that it was his. It was rare indeed for him to not have nightmares.

Throwing on his robes, and getting up he went downstairs and poured himself another glass of Blishen's finest. He then went and sat in his lounge chair.

He did a lot of that lately, when he wasn't making potions in his private lab.

It was nearly two hours before Severus had went back to bed.

About a week later, Severus arrived back at Hogwarts.

Having apparated just outside Hogwarts grounds, he could see the castle. He thought back to the war, and was incredibly impressed with the work everyone had done. You couldn't tell that large chunks of the castle had once been in ruins due to the Battle of Hogwarts.

The quickly made his way to the castle doors, and knocked. It wasn't long before Filch, who remained as Caretaker, opened the doors.

"Welcome back, Professor," greeted Filch.

"Thank you, Filch," greeted Severus.

"The Headmistress and several others are waiting in the staff room," said Filch.

At this Severus gave a curt nod.

He was near the Entrance Hall when he ran into the Headmistress.

"Severus!" greeted Minerva. "There you are."

"Headmistress," greeted Severus. "Who all else is here?"

"Almost everyone," stated Minerva.

"And you convinced Horace to stay on another year?" questioned Severus.

"Yes, well, I struggled to find a good potions master," said Minerva.

At this Severus had to smirk.

"You think its funny do you?" jeered Minerva.

"Indeed," drawled Severus. "Despite being Gryffindor, you're very good at getting what you want."

"I learned from two of the best," retorted Minerva.

"I concede your point," Severus smirked. "What happened with the previous Defence Instructor?"

"Nobody overly liked him, and he decided to leave," snorted Minerva. "I swear he and Lockhart are related."

"Surely he is not as bad as his predecessor?" asked Severus bemused.

"Unfortunately," replied Minerva.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the staff room. Severus quickly schooled his expression, and walked in.

Seeing this reaction from Severus, Minerva just sighed. He never was one to make things easy.

Once he was in the staff room, Neville Longbottom was the first to speak up.

"Hello, Professor," greeted Neville.

"Longbottom," acknowledged Severus.

"It's Neville, sir. I'm taking over for Professor Sprout," stated Neville.

Severus just quirked his eyebrows.

"This is Elizabeth –"

"- Jones," smirked Severus.

"Hello, Severus," she smirked back.

"We've met," he drawled, "although it has been some time. Muggle Studies?"

"Still as sharp as ever," she smirked.

"Undoubtedly, Lizzy" he retorted. "I do hope your sister is well."

"Hestia is," she replied, with a smile.

This was a pleasant surprise in Severus's opinion. She still had a sharp a tongue as ever, no need for awkward introductions, and she was a half-blood, not unlike Severus, with strong magical ties on one side of the family as well as strong muggle ties. Though, Severus had severed most of those ties of his own accord.

If she was teaching Muggle Studies than she stood a better chance of reaching more students, than any pure-blood or even most muggle-borns, as she would be able to fully understand both sides.

Minerva watched, bemused, before deciding to start the meeting.

"Well, shall we get started?" stated Minerva.

The meeting went a lot like most of the others that Severus remembered from previous years. For starters, the new professors were introduced first. Himself as the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, and Neville Longbottom as the Herbology professor. Severus was also given the position of Slytherin Head of House. It turned out that Slughorn had no qualms about handing the position over to Severus, as he had held the position for several years, and Slughorn still planned on retiring.

Filch complained about students bringing items to school that made his life miserable, and then Vector, Flitwick and Babbling said that they needed more supplies for their classes; Slughorn also mentioned needing to replenish his stores. Not much later Rolanda Hooch mentioned needing new brooms.

Irma Pince then complained about some books the students ruined the previous year, and after that Trelawney said something completely barmy, which most everyone ignored, except Neville who seemed to humour her.

Binns was never particularly chatty during these meetings.

Once the meeting finished, Filius Flitwick was the first to speak up.

"Welcome back, Severus," stated Filius.

Severus just nodded. He was feeling thoroughly uncomfortable right now.

"What have you been up to the last few months, if you don't mind me asking, sir?" inquired Neville.

"I'm curious as well," admitted Elizabeth.

"Nothing you'd find particularly fascinating," Severus said tersely.

He waited for any semblance of pity, and is thankful when it never does. These people had certainly known him long enough to know how much he hated it.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some last minute things to take care of," said Severus. "Minerva."

"By all means, Severus," replied Minerva. "We'll see you at dinner."

At this Severus gave a curt nod.

Leaving the room, Severus found himself lost in his thoughts. So much so that he was barely registering where his feet were actually taking him.

Not much later and he found himself at the very place he had avoided since that night, so etched into his mind; the Tower.

Standing at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Severus closed his eyes. The entire grounds lay peacefully before him. There was no evidence left to bear witness to the horrors that had passed, and lives lost.

He sighed.

It wasn't a snarl, the kind of sigh that usually appeared on the man's thin lips when he was irritated about someone's incompetence, notably Longbottom's, which admittedly had stemmed from fear more than stupidity.

It was a heavy sigh, filled with old pain that remained fresh.

Severus was so swept up in his thoughts, that he didn't even notice when another walked in.

"Severus," they called. "Severus."

Pulled back to reality he blinked. It was but a second later when he realized his cheeks were wet.

Quickly, he discreetly dried his eyes, schooled his expression, and turned around to face his colleague.

"I thought I might find you here," said Minerva thoughtfully.

"What do you want, Minerva?" asked Severus.

"So much has happened these past few years," she stated.

"That is the nature of war," he retorted.

"You should stop beating yourself up," informed Minerva.

"I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about," stated Severus.

"Who are you trying to convince?" asked Minerva. "Me or yourself?"

"I'm perfectly fine," stated Severus.

"No," replied Minerva. "Anyone with half their mind can see that you're not."

"Minerva," scowled Severus.

Unfortunately for him, his colleague was not at all perturbed by the glare that she was receiving.

"Oh, Severus," she sighed, "if only you would open up."

Shaking his head, he turned and walked back down to the main part of the castle.

It took every ounce of determination Minerva had not to follow her colleague. Gathering herself, she headed to her office.

This was going to be a very interesting school year indeed.


	9. The Sorting

Severus sighed and brushed his hair out of his eyes as he really tried to concentrate on writing his lesson plan. Lessons resumed tomorrow, and if he didn't have a good lesson prepared… Well, some smart-mouth would surely turn up and make his life yet another living hell, as if it already wasn't. Defence was one of his favourite subjects when he was in school, but he was thoroughly dreading seeing how this lot of students would receive his teaching it.

Severus also didn't understand why he had even bothered to take up the post. It had seemed like one of his better options at the time, but now he was stuck teaching again, and dealing with students that had suffered through his tenure as headmaster. He was particularly dreading teaching the now-fourth-years. Not to mention that none of the staff really had any idea of how to act around him now. They would start treating him normally, and then suddenly not know if they were over stepping their boundaries. To be fair, Severus knew he wasn't much better, which didn't help matters in the slightest.

With a sigh, he shut his book loudly, staring down at its cover for some time. He just wanted these next few weeks to be over.

Somewhere across the courtyard, the clock tower told him that it was now time for the welcoming feast. This should be interesting; all the students were in for quite a surprise when they saw one Severus Snape sitting at the head table once again. At this Severus allowed himself a wry smile.

He stood up from his desk, and made his way through the corridors, and up the stairs to the Great Hall and took a seat on one of the seats towards the right.

The Great Hall looked its usual grand self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were quickly becoming packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat, as per usual, along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils.

Severus noted several stares at his direction, but remained impassive and made an offhanded comment which had Minerva and Filius both shaking their heads.

It wasn't long before the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Rolanda Hooch was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall.

Madam Hooch then moved to place the three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, the infamous, extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. Severus thought someone needed to use a maintenance spell or something on that hat. The first years stared at it, as did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

**_"A thousand years or more ago_ **

**_When I was newly sewn,_ **

**_There lived four wizards of renown,_ **

**_Whose names are still well known:_ **

**_Now this, let it be known!_ **

**_Though roughly sewn, they chose me_ **

**_To sort their dear students_ **

**_Into the houses four_ **

**_And to see what inside each of them stirs._ **

**_For Gryffindors: A heroic, valiant heart._ **

**_Their spirited courage is_ **

**_Undaunted from the start._ **

**_Cunning Slytherins; they're clever and slick._ **

**_Their quick minds, show every single trick._ **

**_Or maybe bright Ravenclaw?_ **

**_If you're brainy through and through._ **

**_The intelligence they portray_ **

**_Is shared by very few._ **

**_Honest Hufflepuffs are loyal to the end._ **

**_To justice and fairness, they will surely remain true_ **

**_So, what are you waiting for?_ **

**_I've never yet been wrong._ **

**_So try me on, and I will tell you_ **

**_Just where you belong."_ **

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"Certainly happier than some of the songs that the Hat had sung in previous years," Severus thought to himself. He supposed that with the war over, even the hat's mood was lifted.

Severus also had to note that the last two years must have been good for the school. Much of the cheer, and atmosphere of excitement was back. Particularly among the younger years.

He shot his colleague a look that clearly said, "You've done well."

He smirked when he saw the genuine smile on Minerva's face.

Rolanda Hooch was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

"Babbling, Matthew."

A boy walked forward, visibly nervous, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

The boy got up and quickly took a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Particularly his aunt, Bathsheda, who had a giant grin on her face.

"Baddock, Joshua!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted with cheers as Baddock joined his brother and the other Slytherins.

"Branstone, Laura!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cook, Sophie!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Loud cheers rang from the Gryffindor table as Cook joined her new house at their table.

"Cresswell, Jordan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Dobbs, Arthur!"

The small boy staggered forward, and put on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

All the Gryffindors clapped, and Dobbs, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join the other Gryffindors.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool.

"The sorting was always so tedious," Severus thought to himself, as the hat was sorting Hannah Doyle.

The line was slowly dwindling but not fast enough for Severus's liking.

Minerva who could sense his impatience, just shook her head.

"You'll survive," she retorted.

Severus just sent a mock glare in her direction as "Madley, Luke!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Pritchard, Lydia!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Reeves, Elizabeth!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Jamie!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Madam Hooch picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

Suffice to say Severus was happy when it was finally over, but not for the next part.

Minerva McGonagall had gotten to her feet and silenced the hall. She gave a slight smile to the newly sorted first years. "Welcome and welcome back. Before we begin our feast, I have some announcements for you." She looked at each of the House Tables. "We have a new teacher, and one returning professor this year. Professor Longbottom will be taking over Herbology. Professor Snape (gasps reverberated throughout the halls), cleared of all charges, has graciously agreed to resume his post of Defence professor, and head of Slytherin house. I trust you will treat them with the respect due to them. Now, first-years should note that the Forbidden Forest, at the edge of the grounds, is as its name suggests – forbidden, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year."

She paused to let that sink in.

"Mr. Filch would also like me to remind you that all Zonko's products and the Weasley's products are forbidden," continued the Headmistress. "You can find a list of all the items on the door to Mr. Filch's office. Curfew has been extended this year until ten. Now, I'm sure you're all hungry, so dig in." With that, food appeared on the tables.

After everyone had helped themselves to food, the hall became chatty once more. Severus however, hardly touched his food.

"What in Merlin's name did that kidney pie ever do to you, Severus?" teased Aurora Sinistra.

"Everything, naturally," retorted Severus.

Sinistra just shook her head.

It wasn't long before Severus looked down at his hardly touched plate of food, then put his knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from him.

"Oh c'mon, Severus," said Poppy. "You have to eat something."

Eventually, under threat of a trip to the hospital wing by Poppy Pomfrey, Severus dined to eat more of his food. He did, however, make sure to send a scowl in Poppy's direction. Nobody said anything about being happy about it.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"I always did like the Treacle Tart," said Neville.

"The Chocolate Gateau is also quite good," said Filius.

"Too right," said Poppy, before deliberately turning to Severus. "You really should try some."

But Severus gave her such a pointed look that she gave up. Severus could hear her mumble something under her breathe that sounded suspiciously like, "Juvenile."

"Insufferable witch," grumbled Severus.

"I'm sorry," said Poppy, with a rather pointed look. "I didn't catch that."

"I'm sure," smirked Severus, who knew full well that she had heard him.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Minerva McGonagall got to her feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we have all eaten," said the Headmistress. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams would do well to contact Madam Hooch."

Severus could see several students immediately start chatting excitedly about positions that they wanted to play, and who would be trying out.

Minerva quickly got their attention.

"And finally, I have been asked to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors," continued Minerva. "Dueling is, of course, prohibited for all students."

Severus smirked when he saw a couple of his Slytherins scowl at this. For all that things had drastically changed, some things stayed the same.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" said Minerva with a rather fixed smile.

Severus remained impassive.

She pulled out her wand, and gave it a little flick, as if she was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Off we go!" said Minerva.

And the school bellowed:

**_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_ **

**_Teach us something please,_ **

**_Whether we be old and bald_ **

**_Or young with scabby knees,_ **

**_Our heads could do with filling_ **

**_With some interesting stuff,_ **

**_For now they're bare and full of air,_ **

**_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_ **

**_So teach us things worth knowing,_ **

**_Bring back what we've forgot,_ **

**_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_ **

**_And learn until our brains all rot."_ **

Everybody finished the song at different times.

"Very good," said Minerva. "And now, it's late and I know how important it is for you all to be rested for classes tomorrow. Off to bed!"

All the Heads of Houses stood up as the crowds of chattering students made their way out of the Great Hall to their dormitories; first-years lead by their prefects.

Severus in particular had a welcoming speech to give. This meant he needed to get everyone organized before they went to bed. With his cloak bellowing behind him just so, he made his way down to the dungeons and to the Slytherin common room.

"Astutus," said Severus, revealing the passage.

The Slytherin common room hadn't changed much. It was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. It extended partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge. The common room had lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. It was decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins. It had quite a grand atmosphere, but also quite a cold one, in Severus's opinion.

As he entered the common room, he called a house meeting, and gathered everyone. He had quickly sent the prefects to check the dormitories for any idlers.

Once everyone has gathered, the prefects fell in line, and Severus began.

"Welcome," said Severus. "I am professor Snape. I am your Head of House. Some of you, no doubt, remember me from years past."

At this several students nodded. Two dared to hiss something, but Severus shot them both a glare which quickly put an end to the snide comments.

"I am sure Headmistress McGonagall has already explained to you all that your house is _like your family_ here at Hogwarts," he said, with a slight sneer. Silence. "As nauseatingly maudlin as the sentiment is, it is nonetheless true. You would do well to remember that. Now, in Slytherin we value cunning, subtly and ambition."

He paused to let this sink in.

"The first rule in Slytherin House is unity," said Severus. "I have no doubt that you will have quarrels, but they best be dealt with in-house. Within Slytherin House, you may compete among yourselves for power and prestige. However, I expect you to refrain from anything as common as brawling in the common rooms. Moreover, no matter how viciously you fight among yourselves, outside of this common room you will conduct yourselves as a proper young witch or wizard should. Slytherin already has a dubious reputation, and your quarrels will not bring harm to Slytherin as a whole."

He paused yet again.

"Bare this in mind," continued Severus. "A victory for Slytherin is a victory for us all. House pride and unity are paramount. And as Headmistress McGonagall stated earlier this evening, dueling is prohibited."

At this he gave a pointed look to several of the seventh-years that he remembered, albeit vaguely, as having got into several fights.

"Now, the password to the common room changes every fortnight, and it is posted on the noticeboard," continued Severus. "Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Very well," said Severus. "My office is down the hall, behind the painting of two snakes intertwined. A brief knock on the door will suffice if you need me. If you interrupt me without a good reason, I will be slightly displeased, but while you are here I act in _loco parentis_. As such, I am responsible for your welfare. I do not want you to hesitate to find me if you need something. My office is always open to you."

"Now, it's been a long night, and you all have class in the morning, which you will NOT be late to," he said, placing emphasis on the word not. "Everyone is to go straight to bed. You know where your dorms are; off to bed you go."

Once all the students had gone to their dormitories, and he had a brief discussion with the prefects, Severus made his way to his quarters.

With a sigh, he collapsed on the arm chair by the fire. This was going to be a very long first week.


	10. Tantibus

Severus woke up that morning, and arrived at his classroom a bit early, in order to make sure everything was in order. The onslaught of first-year students into the dark dungeon classroom shook Severus from his thoughts. He was amused, watching the different reactions of the students. He noted that a couple students already had a quill in hand, ready to take notes. They definitely had some interest in the class. He made a mental note to watch those students moving forward.

With a smirk, he picked up the student roster, scanned the students carefully, reading their names slowly and icily. Once he was finished calling the names he looked up at the class, and spoke.

"You are here to learn how to defend yourselves," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Minerva McGonagall, Severus had always had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "This is an essential skill; therefore, you would all do well to take this class seriously."

Severus then set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"The Dark Arts," Severus continued, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Several of the students stared at him, contemplating.

"Your defences," said Severus, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo."

More silence followed this little speech, as Severus turned to the blackboard and began scrawling the day's lesson in neat chalky cursive while the students whispered amongst themselves.

"Werewolves," said Severus. "They are exceptionally precarious, and when dealing with their bites, it is imperative to act swiftly. Can anyone tell me anything about werewolves?"

There was silence, and Severus noted a student - Summers was it? - on the fence with answering.

"Nobody" he questioned. "How disappointing. I merely wish to see what background information you posses."

At that last bit, the brunet first-year rose her hand.

"A werewolf is a human being who, when the full moon rises, becomes a fearsome and deadly near-wolf due to lycanthropy," said Marianne Summers.

"Very good, Miss Summers," he said. "Anyone else?"

Severus watched as an auburn boy a few seats away rose his hand.

"Aren't there werewolves in the forest?" asked Arthur Dobbs.

"It didn't take long for the rumors to reach your ears," smirked Severus. "All I'll say on the matter is that the forbidden forest is home to many things that are certainly no friend to you."

"Now, a mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite will seal the wound and allow the victim to live," explained Severus. "However, they will live on as a werewolf."

He then showed several pictures of werewolves and regular wolves. Delving just a tad into the differences, so as they'd know if it really was a werewolf bite.

He then had them turn to page 387 and start reading the introduction to werewolves.

Finally, the bell rang and all the students scurried out of the classroom. Severus took a seat at his desk at the front of the dungeon.

The next class he had was the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth years. That would be interesting; they would be working on hex-deflection.

That class went smoothly, considering. There was definitely a lot of hesitating and curiosity amongst the students, who evidently were nervous about his having returned.

The end of the lesson was welcome indeed.

Before long it was lunch and Severus made his way up to the Great Hall and took a seat at the head table, to the right of Minerva.

By the end of the week, Severus was exhausted, that after his last class Friday – fourth years – Severus could be found with his head in had hands, resting on the desk, as his head was running a mile a minute.

Unfortunately for him his colleague, one Minerva McGonagall, had taken it upon herself to make sure he was alright, and adjusting well to his return.

In the past week she had made it abundantly clear – to him at least – that she didn't intend to let their conversation on the tower go without a fight.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Minerva who had just walked in.

"Good afternoon, Severus," greeted Minerva.

"Headmistress," replied Severus.

"I do believe I've had this conversation with you already, Severus," said Minerva pointedly.

Severus just snorted. He remembered, he just also didn't particularly care. Formalities and distancing himself from ridiculous, maudlin conversations was just so much easier; he hated sentimental nonsense.

"I don't know about you but I'm glad the first week is done," said Minerva.

"Indeed," smirked Severus.

"I believe you had fourth-year defence today," said Minerva matter-of-factly.

"Yes," Severus said plainly.

"How did it go?" questioned Minerva.

"As well as can be expected," said Severus.

"I see," said Minerva. "I'll consider it a success then."

Severus just raised his eyebrows.

"What?" jeered Minerva.

"Nothing," said Severus.

"Sure," said Minerva in disbelief. "You really should get some sleep, you know."

"Where were your keen observation skills before?" Severus thought to himself. He then mentally chided himself. That wasn't fair; he had needed Minerva to be unaware at the time.

He sighed.

"I trust you weren't here to discuss my sleeping patterns," retorted Severus.

"Certainly not," Minerva huffed.

"Indeed," sneered Severus.

"I just thought I'd let you know that I'd like yours and Filius's Quidditch schedule by next week," said Minerva.

"I see," smirked Severus. She really was a terrible liar. "And why did you decide to personally remind me, even though we discussed this two days ago?"

Minerva just huffed, and started making her way to the door.

"By the way, try a cup of chamomile and passion flower," said Minerva, turning to Severus and giving him an encouraging smile. With that, she closed the door.

Severus just scoffed, organized his papers, and made his way to his quarters a couple doors down.

The entire way to his quarters he kept racking his brain over what Minerva had said. The camomile was obvious and, if he remembered correctly, passion flower had been used for sleep problems and the like related to anxiety. It was purportedly a sleep aid… how did Minerva know about his nightmares?

He just shook his head, and moved to sit in his black leather armchair, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why couldn't Minerva just let it go! No, she had to bring it up.

Checking the time, he just sighed, and pulled out his latest potions text. He had a few hours 'til dinner, and at least people had the sense not to bother him in his quarters.

After dinner, Severus didn't hesitate to take his leave, and headed back to his quarters.

Lighting a fire, he took a seat and pulled out the recent edition of a Potions Tabloid he'd subscribed to. Apparently a Potions Master, a couple counties over, was working on improving upon the Oculus Potion.

They proposed using half the mandrake and adding the equivalent amount of moondew.

Severus snorted. Griffiths forgot to account for the ground unicorn hair, and it would also change how long you had to crystallize the water for. Either he was very lax during the interview, or he was as big a dunderhead as Severus had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

On the other hand, moondew did have healing properties. Severus privately thought that fluxweed would work just as well, if either were going to work.

Maybe he'd do some brewing tomorrow; it was the weekend after all.

It was several hours later, when Severus decided to call it a night. He was tired, Minerva was right about that. He made his way to his room, and closed his eyes to hopefully get some rest.


	11. Uncertainty

As the weeks progressed, Severus found himself falling into a bit of a routine. Things were still strained, however. As forgiving as the other members of staff were once the truth came out, it didn't mean they fully grasped the situation. It also didn't mean that Severus was able to easily let go of how they had treated him. What was that saying? Oh yes… It's easier said than done.

It also didn't help that, as humbled as he had been from Azkaban and the like, his barely existent patience was wearing very thin.

Poppy, Minerva, and Filius wouldn't stop fretting over his health, and it had actually resulted in a rather bitter exchange of words. He knew he was being somewhat cruel, but he couldn't bring himself to care much, or at all, really.

"You've barely eaten, and you look dead on your feet, Severus," said Poppy, worriedly, that afternoon as he hadn't eaten much, and then left lunch early.

"Your concern is noted, and unwarranted, Madam Pomfrey," sneered Severus, hoping that she picked up on the deliberate emphasis and use of her title. He was a grown man for Merlin's sake! "Surely you have other things of importance to deal with, besides me? After all, I do recall that it wasn't of paramount importance before."

She instantly looked hurt and ashamed at the jib towards her. He hadn't needed to say much, as she understood, perfectly well, to what he was referring.

_"Poppy please –" said Severus, practically begging her to give him a draught for the dangerous fever that was plaguing him._

_Filius Flitwick had charmed his food to make him sick, and Severus had already been a bit under the weather; he could only assume it was the stress. He couldn't wait until this was all over. It would be nice when all was said and done._

_Normally the former potions master would have brewed his own, but Slughorn locked down tightly when he wasn't in the room. He was working on potions to help the students, some of which Severus had been told to ban, but with a confundus charm, had hinted that they might be able to get the stock past him. He purposely left it alone for this reason, and made sure the Carrows had no reason to suspect it._

_Furthermore, he knew that none of the staff, save for the Carrows, would let him be alone long enough to break into Slughorn's stores and brew the potions. He had also used a good deal of his stash to help the students who he caught having detention with the Carrows. Not that Poppy even seemed to register that they had had any medical assistance, save for hers. He was becoming very frustrated with everything. He should have had a better plan, he knew, but he had barely enough room to throw a Kneazle right now… if he was caught… He hadn't counted on the Carrows completely overstepping their bounds, or Dumbledore's Army returning with a vengeance._

_Then there was the fact that, in his condition, he didn't trust himself not to make some or other rudimentary mistake, that he otherwise wouldn't have in brewing. For the more advanced potions, one had to focus. One misstep, no matter how slight, would be cause for instant disregarding of said potion._

_He had stored several potions, for personal use, and he still had a lab, outside of Hogwarts, but he was hard-pressed to find the time, and his private stalk of potions and ingredients had since run out. The ones he needed that is…_

_Unfortunately, for him, he was Undesirable No. 1 at Hogwarts. Not unlike Potter, on the outside._

_"You'll be fine, Headmaster," Poppy said, voice filled with the utter contempt which she held for him. "I have other patients, who actually deserve help, considering they're your victims. You know, those first-years that had a class with Carrow and the Seventh-years today? Nobody cares if you have a fever. Get out."_

_He was livid. She knew full well that it was more than just a fever. His health had been deteriorating before Filius' petty little stunt._

_Luckily, neither of the Carrows had seen what Filius had done, so he didn't have to put on more of a show than he was already. He really didn't want to have to remove anybody, save for the Carrows, from staff. They were defending the students, and that was vital right now._

_"Mind you watch your tone, Madam," smirked Severus, nastily. "The students do need your services after all, and it would be such a shame to be forced to make an example of you."_

_"Very well, Headmaster," she said, although she was unable to hide all the contempt trying to lace her voice when she said his title._

"I'm sorry, Severus," said Poppy.

Throwing a quick glance in her direction, he saw tears in Poppy's eyes. With a sigh, he turned and walked out of the room, making his way to his classroom, to grade some papers.

He had assigned a two-foot-long essay, on red caps, to his fourth-year class, as well as an essay, two roles of parchment long, on inferi, to his sixth-years. All of which, he wanted marked as soon as possible.

He had just finished reading a, particularly, badly done essay, when Minerva walked in.

"Severus Snape!" she exclaimed. "What did you say to Poppy?" She then shot him a look that told him he wasn't getting out of this.

Resigned, he threw the essay into a stack with the rest of them, and turned to her.

"The truth," he stated.

"Although valid, I would prefer you didn't make a habit of making my staff cry when they're trying to help," sighed Minerva.

"Don't patronize me," he snorted.

"Severus –" she started.

"No, Minerva," he retorted. "Take that conversation as a warning. Just give me some ruddy room to breathe!"

She looked momentarily taken back, but realized that he was trying to be somewhat sensible about the situation, and that he was clearly feeling smothered. That wasn't their intent.

"Fine," said Minerva. "It's no use crying over spilt potion, I suppose, but you've been through too much to throw it away now, Severus."

Severus just nodded, and picked up an essay, and started reading.

He could hear Minerva sigh, and grumble something, as she caught the hint, and took her leave.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a breather, before attempting to refocus on his marking. He found himself unable to focus, however, and eventually called it good. They'd get their essays soon enough. He just couldn't shake this off.

Some time later, he checked the clock in his office, and made his way up to the Hall for dinner.

He walked into the Hall, and took the seat near Hagrid and Elizabeth, who was sitting beside Longbottom. He didn't feel like dealing with anyone else right now, and, oddly, these were the only two he could stomach right now. He would deal with the Poppy situation later.

"Evenin' Professor," said Hagrid in way of greeting.

"Good evening," replied Severus, although his tone hinted that it wasn't, for him at least.

"I see you've deigned to grace us with your illustrious presence," teased Lizzy.

"Naturally," he quipped.

"How did your classes go?" asked Neville. "The first-years were rather high-strung today in class."

"I had fourth and sixth-years," drawled Severus. "They tend to be much more reserved than the first-years. Just be glad you're not dealing with anything too dangerous yet."

"Point taken," grinned Neville, before realizing something. "That's why you were so hard on us in potions, wasn't it?"

"In part," said Severus. "Potions can be very volatile or toxic, although that was far from the main reason."

"I see," said Neville, helping himself to some food, and gesturing for Severus to do the same.

Begrudgingly, he filled his plate, and tried to eat more than usual. Even he knew his eating habits were far from healthy.

When he noticed Poppy looking in Severus's direction, he nodded, giving her a rather pointed look. She seemed to understand, and gave a small smile, in return, before returning to her own conversation.

"Say, Severus, can I ask you a question?" prodded Lizzy, between bites of food.

"I might be able to permit another," he retorted, putting his cup of gillywater down.

"You're ever so gracious," she smirked.

Severus just rolled his eyes.

"It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business," she smirked.

Ah, the Godfather… Why he still remembered that, he didn't know.

"In Sicily, women are more dangerous than shotguns," he quipped, smirking.

"Well played," she laughed.

"You were saying?" he questioned.

"I was wondering if you still had a copy of _to Kill a Mockingbird_ or _the Outsiders_ ," she said. "I am finding the textbook rather dry and outdated."

"Such a surprise," he smirked.

"I thought they'd benefit from actual, less biased, information," she said.

"You tried to explain electricity, didn't you?" he chortled.

"Humph," she said. "Even after all these years, I still haven't figured out how to explain it to a pure-blood. It's sad that there are a lot of half-bloods who are just as bad. I'm surprised you kept one foot in though."

"I haven't really," admitted Severus. "I'm just a first generation, unlike most of the half-bloods you're likely having troubles with. Magic was never used at home."

"Point taken," she agreed. "Light bulbs are easy, if you equate them to a lumos, but the only way I can think of describing a telly to them is comparing it to a pensive, although for books, not memories. I brought in pictures of some items, but it's such a vague subject."

"I doubt even a Muggle, save for electricians, could really explain it," agreed Severus. "It's like a wizard trying to explain magic."

"In other words, impossible," Lizzy said with a snort. "You've got that right."

"I don't know if I still have my old copies of them, but I'll search for them during the coming weekend," he said. "If they're anywhere, I've probably stuffed them in my attic. I'll bring another bin as well and you can search through them."

"Brilliant," she grinned.

Most of the staff just looked at them with a dear in the headlights look. Both professors shook their heads, oozing mirth, when it was obvious that none of their colleagues could follow them.

As dinner came to a close, the staff and students made their way out of the Hall. Most of the staff seemed to make their way up to the Headmistress's office, which Severus thought was odd. Nothing of note had happened, as of late, and a staff meeting certainly hadn't been called.

It oddly reminded him of when they were sneaking around, or rather were attempting to, his last year here. He was torn between feeling a little hurt, and figuring that habits were hard to break.

Plus, surely they'd tell him if something important was going on? Why did he even care?

Pushing these thoughts out of his head, he made his way back down to his office, and dived in to the pile of essays he still had left to read.

They weren't as bad as years past though, Severus noted. The majority were Es with a few As. Either he was growing soft, or there was something to this being a bit less intimidating thing.


	12. A Fork in the Road

The weather was cooling, as October finally came to a close, and one dour black-haired professor could be found nursing a tumbler in his quarters in the dungeons.

Halloween had been much the same as could be expected, and apparently one of his Slytherins had decided to give a Gryffindor a pumpkin for a head. It was completely harmless, but as such he had just returned from a detention.

All in all, it had been rather uneventful, though, considering that the six years in which Potter had been a student here, things were always hectic; someone had either let a troll in, petrified someone, or broke in to the castle; in no specific order.

Not that he was complaining about some peace and quiet.

He groaned. His head was killing him. He was beyond tired. Tired of it all. It didn't help that the last few days had been one thing after another. He could feel the tears prickling his eye, and angrily brushed them away with the sleeve of the robe he was wearing. _Snivellus_. Get a hold of yourself. You don't cry like a frightened youngster.

He took a swig from the Firewhisky, trying to block out the memories. Trying to make himself numb.

Unfortunately, he wasn't left alone to his musings for long.

"Severus," said a voice, knocking on the door.

"Not now, Minerva," sighed Severus.

She wasn't deterred for long, however, as she wouldn't stop knocking, and Severus needed the pounding to stop.

"What do you want, Minerva?" said Severus.

"I was going through this week's reports," said Minerva, in way of explanation. Severus had not been as thorough on his reports as he maybe should have been. Though, she supposed that she really should be thankful they got done at all.

"I see," he said.

"That's all you have to say?" she questioned.

"Yes," he replied.

If Severus was on edge before, it was nothing compared to how he was feeling after the next couple things that Minerva said, in an attempt to get him to open up. It was, apparently, very obvious that something was bothering him.

Finally, when she didn't take the hint, he snapped.

Minerva just watched Severus rant and smash the empty bottle against the hearth; the man was devastated.

"SEVERUS SNAPE, GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" roared Minerva. She then softened her tone. "I don't even know who the person standing in front of me is. The Severus Snape I knew was a fighter, he would not give up and become a pathetic drunk."

Severus swayed on his feet but looked at her balefully.

"Get out!" he snarled quietly.

To her credit, Minerva held her ground, and stared at him. "Go clean up, and I want you at dinner. Do try to make yourself presentable."

Annoyance crossed his pale features.

"Go! Now!" she ordered sternly.

Severus looked resentful, still not moving.

"Do I have to take you in hand myself?" she said, taking a step forward.

Severus took a step back.

"You know what?" snorted Severus, angrily. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Severus –" she said.

He just shook his head.

"Talk to me, please," she said.

"I can't," he said, his voice growing hoarse.

"Why not?" questioned Minerva.

"You don't get it, Minerva," said Severus, acting rather the petulant child.

"What don't I get, Severus?" prodded Minerva.

"Nothing," said Severus, sighing.

"No," said Minerva, hoping to push him a bit over the edge. It hadn't escaped her notice that he had been distant and moody for a couple weeks. He was pushing everyone away.

"What don't I get? Tell me," prodded Minerva.

"Just go!" said Severus, hands shaking.

"No. Talk to me, Severus," said Minerva. "What don't I get?"

He winced as tears entered his eyes.

"What don't I get?" she asked. "You can't keep on like this, Severus."

"I… I killed him, dammit!" said Severus, before even realizing he said it. "I don't –"

His voice cracked, and sitting on the couch, his head fell into his hands.

He felt a light touch on his shoulder.

"You didn't," said Minerva. "You gave him an extra year."

"I... I cast the curse, I watched… him… d-die," said Severus, gritting his teeth. He could feel his control shattering, and was fighting desperately to hold onto it. "D-don't tell me I didn't! I killed him, just like I good as did L-lily! Not to mention Charity!"

Though he didn't look at her, his voice was filled with a raw, bitter ache, and a savage self-loathing.

Minerva felt her heart ache for the man before her, who was hurting so badly and yet did not know how to ask for comfort. Worse, did not believe that he _deserved_ comfort.

"Severus, you did the best anyone could have done," said Minerva. "You were handed an impossible situation; it was war."

"Everything I do… It's –" rasped Severus.

"You did more than enough, Severus," said Minerva, tears running down her cheeks. "Way more than enough."

"I just –" he started to say, before a sob escaped his lips.

Then the older witch did something no one else would have dared.

She took the guilt-ridden, distraught, Potions Master, and Defence Instructor, in her arms and held him.

Severus stiffened, then tried to pull away.

"No… don't…" he rasped.

"I should have done this a long time ago," said Minerva, hugging him tighter.

Suddenly his last remnants of control snapped. He was tired, so tired. He was weary unto death of suppressing his emotions, sick to his very soul with remorse and anguish, and could not bear it any longer. Head buried in Minerva's shoulder, there was no keeping back the flood as strangled sobs escaped his lips, shaking his entire body and threatening to overwhelm him. He wept himself to exhaustion, and all the while the animagus held him, wise enough not to offer council but only blind comfort, her tears mingling with his own.

Once he calmed enough, he got up, and still feeling defeated, turned towards the loo.

After he got out of the shower, he threw on some decent robes, went to his stores and took a sobering and headache draught. He could have just taken a Pepper Up, but he had no desire to go to dinner with steam coming out of his ears.

He was instantly feeling much more clearheaded, and while in his stores, one bottle caught his attention. Recognizing it immediately, and figuring it wouldn't hurt any, he took the tiny vial and tipped it to his lips; a warm feeling spread through him, as he instantly relaxed.

It was under the effects of the calming draught that Severus made his way up to the Great Hall.

Upon entering the hall, he noticed that something was off. There were two extra seats, and even though he couldn't see his face yet, the black hair was unmistakable. He had actively tried to avoid the young boy - no, man - these last few months.

The other, even if the raven-haired young man didn't, certainly had better things to do than being here. What in Merlin's name was going on?

He did successfully manage to keep the confusion off his face, however, and just moved to take his seat.

He was pulled out of his musings by Minerva, standing up, and catching everyone's attention.

"Good evening," she said. "As I am sure you've all noticed, we have some special guests with us this evening: Mister Harry Potter and Minster Shacklebolt."

There was a round of applause from the sea of students.

"Now, before we eat, I do believe that our guests have a few words that they would like to say," informed Minerva. She then glanced at him, and said, "the floor is yours."

"Thank you, Ma'am," said Potter. "I am thrilled to be here tonight, and thank you for the warm welcome."

The students were all hanging on to his every word. His worth had grown tenfold when he had survived not only twice, but vanished the darkest wizard of the age.

"Young mister Potter stole the words out of my mouth," said the Minster. "Thank you for the warm welcome. It is truly an honour to be here tonight. As you all know, not so long ago we were at war. Fear makes people to terrible things, but as a good friend once said, _it is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers_."

Severus then watched as Shacklebolt gestured to Potter.

"Twenty years ago a drastic decision was made," said Harry. "Twenty years ago a young man made a decision that would change the course of history."

At this Severus fought to keep the nervousness, and surprise, off his face. However, if the look that he was currently receiving, from Minerva, was any sign, he was failing horribly at keeping the look of surprise at bay.

"This man has, in a very real sense, been to hell and back," said Shacklebolt. "He played an unenviable role; scorned by the Light, and unable to align himself with the Dark."

His mind was racing with curiosity. What in Merlin's name was going on? He tried to think of a reason they would be dishing out his biography of sorts, but none came to him.

He also couldn't help but wonder if Shacklebolt was referring to Azkaban, or the Dark Lord. Although, it might have been a touch of both. Personally, both qualified in one fashion or another.

"He intercepted a prophecy, and switched sides. He decide to give a family their best chance. He owned up to his past mistakes, and with his decision," Potter continued, "he showed everyone that not only are things not what they first seem, but he showed us that we've all got both light and dark inside of us. He showed us that what matters is the part we choose to act on; that is who we really are. He showed us that the mistakes we make, the choices we make, can be reversed. Personally, I have to believe there's redemption in the darkest of circumstances."

The hall was still quiet; students and staff hanging onto every word.

"While I was at Hogwarts, although not a kind man, he did everything he could to protect me," said Potter. "He lived up to the promise he made to himself, and even while I was in hiding, worked to help me end the war. He didn't hesitate to take his role as spy back up, even when everything was telling him not to. I was there when he was asked, and a stronger look of resignation I've never seen. He always has been quite the character; even while I was hexing him, and berating him, he tried to give me advice. Advice that I never heeded, and I should have."

Severus knew exactly what the young man was referring to.

_It was the night he had killed Dumbledore. He was fleeing the castle with the other Deatheaters, and Potter was on his tail, hexing him._

_"Incarc-" Potter roared, but Severus deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm._

"Fight back!" Potter screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly-"

"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" he shouted. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

_"Stupe-"_

_"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Severus, deflecting the curse once more. The boy needed to learn to close his mind off! If he didn't he didn't have a prayer! "Now come!" he shouted at the huge Death Eater behind Harry. "It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up-"_

"I can honestly say that without this man I don't know if I would be standing in front of you today," said the young man. "He has a shocking knack for acting, and enjoys messing with people, altogether too much."

At this, Severus smirked, and quite a few others laughed.

"He embodies the best of all for Houses; exceedingly loyal, incalculably cunning, uncommonly brilliant, and immensely brave," continued Potter. "This is why, with the Minister's blessing, I have been given the, huge, honour of doing this. Professor Snape, if you could come forward."

Severus stood up, and still confused as can be, made his way beside Potter and Shacklebolt.

"I apologize for everything," said Potter, just for Severus' ears.

Severus just quirked his eyebrows in reply, causing Potter to shake his head.

"Severus Tobias Snape, it is my great honour to award you the Order of Merlin – First Class – for your incredibly bravery and special services to both the school, but the British Wizarding Community!" announced Potter, moving to pin the green ribbon onto Severus' robes.

The entire hall broke into seas of cheers and applause. Hagrid even whistled.

Severus was utterly, and completely, stunned. Nowhere in his mind had he suspected this, or even considered it an option.

"It is well deserved," said Potter. "You sacrificed a lot for our cause."

"Hardly the only one, Potter," he replied.

"True," said Potter. "Others have as well, but in a different way. You deserve this, Severus. You've more than redeemed yourself."

"Thank you," he croaked, an uncharacteristic amount of emotion in his voice. It took everything he had to compose himself again.

"You're welcome," grinned Potter, before getting a sly smirk on his face.

"Merlin, save me," thought Severus.

"How about a few words from the professor?" offered Potter.

"Git," whispered Severus.

"Revenge is sweet," chuckled Potter, in an equally low voice.

"You're the one that got up and spoke," reminded Severus.

"Ah, yes, but I hate public speaking," grinned Potter.

"Did I mentioned you were insufferable?" inquired Severus.

"Wouldn't be the first time you thought that, I'm sure," said Potter, bemused. He then handed the reigns over to him.

"Thank you, Mister Potter, Minster Shacklebolt," said Severus, now talking in a more raised voice, and shaking their hands. "I am beyond honoured and humbled, even as I think of the others who worked tirelessly to help us get to where we are today. This means a great deal, and especially due to who it is coming from. Permit me to say that both of your parents would be proud of you, Mister Potter."

"Then permit me to say, sir, that you're forgiven," said Harry, in a much lower voice.

"Congratulations, Severus!" said Shacklebolt. "I also have much to apologize for, and wish you all the best in the coming years. Harry is right, it's well deserved."

Severus just nods, and Potter started another round of applause.

"Congratulations, Severus," said Minerva, as he took a seat.

"Thank you," said Severus.

There was a sea of congratulations from the rest of the staff.

"How long has this been in the works?" questioned Severus.

"For some time," acknowledge Filius, filling his plate.

"We know we made many mistakes your year as Headmaster, Severus," said Minerva. "Things have been particularly strained these last few weeks, and if we've done anything to do that, we apologize. I also know that I've said and done some hurtful things. I am particularly sorry for what I said at your trial."

"I purposely ignored things, and ended up hurting you," said Poppy. "It wasn't right, and I said many things that I shouldn't have."

"As did we all," said Filius.

"We all are very sorry, Severus," said Minerva. "We know it doesn't change what happened, but we'd all like to move on, and put this behind us."

"You're right," said Severus. "It doesn't change what's happened, but nothing will. Things were hardly easy for you lot either, and I can't fault you for that. I want to put in the past as well, as for how I've been acting the last few weeks, well… suffice to say I haven't been dealing with things well."

He then gave her a rather pointed look.

"Although, if you can refrain from making me feel like an unruly school boy next time you want to make a point, I assure you, Minerva, I would most certainly appreciate it."

"Then don't give me a reason, Mister Snape," she teased, taking some Yorkshire pudding.

Severus just rolled his eyes.

"They are right you know," said Filius. "It is well deserved."

"Definitely," agreed Neville. "As one of the students, things could have been a lot worse."

"Did you really not suspect anything?" questioned Poppy.

He snorted.

"I noticed you lot acting peculiar and secretive," he said, slightly bemused. "However, I had no idea what was going on. And this did not find itself on any list of arbitrary theories."

"I hope you didn't think of anything to bad," said Filius.

"No," he lied, smoothly. "I just had no idea what to make of it."

"You're losing your touch," teased Rolanda.

"Hardly," he smirked. "There are just some things that one ought to leave alone."

"Sure, Severus," jeered Rolanda. "Whatever you say."

"Oi! It has to be some sort of record," teased Lizzy. "What do you think Irma?"

"I'm not coming near this with a ten-foot broomstick," she said.

"Wise choice," smirked Severus.

"What do you think?" questioned Lizzy, turning to Vector.

"Oh, without a doubt," said Septima, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"As I said, not likely," he snorted. "Furthermore, if we're playing this game, I could mention..."

"No thanks," Lizzy said, quickly.

"That's what I thought," he smirked.

"Don't count your owls before they're delivered, Severus," goaded Minerva.

Severus shot a mock glare in her direction, causing her to shake her head, smiling.

"Severus, Severus, Severus, what are we going to do with you?" questioned Minerva.

Severus just rolled his eyes.

"Never have an dull day," suggested Lizzy, with a shrug.

"Well, you certainly have a certain proclivity for making things interesting, Severus," said Minerva.

"It's a talent," he said, oozing mirth.

He was beyond exhausted by the time the staff had called it a night, and he went to bed.

He fell asleep instantly, and for the first time, in a long while, he had a peaceful night's sleep.

Despite the horrible start to the day, things were slowly beginning to look up. Maybe things really would turn out alright. They forgave him, but could he forgive himself?


	13. The Patronus

Severus looked out over his first class of the day: seventh-year Gryffindor-Slytherins. With a swish of a wand, he then wrote the day's lesson on the board: The Patronus Charm. This wasn't exactly a lesson he was looking forward to, but it had to be done, nonetheless.

"Who can tell me what the Patronus Charm is?" he questioned, knowing full well it was a rather famous spell. He then paused and looked out at the group of students.

One of his Slytherins raised her hand.

"Miss Accrington, if you would," he said.

"Isn't it like a sort of shield, sir?" she asked.

"Correct," he smirked. "A patronus is a strong positive force, and for the witch or wizard who finds themselves capable of conjuring one, it works like a shield against Dementors and Lethifolds. These are two creatures that against which there is no other defence," he said. "The creature would feed on it, rather than them."

He then briefly paused to let it sink in.

"Does anyone know the basics of how to produce one?" he prodded.

A brunet Gryffindor boy's hand shot into the air. Severus took his time looking around at everybody else, noticing nobody else was going to speak up, before saying curtly, "Yes, Mister Dunbar?"

"You have to focus on a specific memory," the boy replied.

"That answer was exceedingly vague," he said, dismissively. "However, it is correct in essentials. Yes, in order to successfully produce one, you must first think of a memory. Not just any memory, but a very strong, happy memory. It is imperative that it is very powerful. You must then focus on it, and lose yourself in it, in a sort of fashion. You then speak the incantation, Expecto patronum."

He set off to the other side of the classroom, and they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.

"The Patronus Charm is extremely difficult, and many witches and wizards are unable to produce a full, corporeal Patronus," he continued. "The patronus will generally take the shape of the animal with whom a witch or wizard shares the deepest affinity."

He then heard some whispering, and a nervous Gryffindor raised his hand. Severus had to figure that he was not excited about the prospect of voicing whatever the question was.

He almost felt bad, considering who it was that was clearly being pushed to ask the question.

"Your group has a question, Mister Wolpert?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"Umm, yes sir," he stammered. "We were just…"

"Eloquent as ever, Mister Wolpert," he smirked. "Today if you would?"

"Yes sir," he said. "Well… some of us were wondering… assuming you can do a Patronus… what is it, sir? If you don't mind."

The last part was added quickly, the student not wanting to chance offence.

Severus considered it a moment. He had known this was likely to come up, however. It was part of why he dreaded this lesson.

It did, however, give him the opportunity for a demonstration.

Resigned he began to speak.

"Yes, I can conjure a Patronus," he said.

They then watched as he pulled out his wand.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," he whispered, fighting to keep his composure and keep the tears at bay.

From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe. She landed on the classroom floor, bounded once across the room, and soared out of the window.

The students all watched her fly away, and their attention only returned to him once her silvery glow faded.

"Why a doe?" one student asked.

"That is none of your business, Mister Williams," he chided. "Now, I want you all to follow me. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. The class, then, puzzled but interested, got to its feet and followed the professor out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Severus was two feet away, and he shot Peeves a warning look. He then stepped into the doorway, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the chattering queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

Severus noted many students looking around as they entered. The room was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. The room was empty except for dummies of Dementors, which they would be practising against. Nobody spoke as they settled down, although Severus could swear that several students were looking at the dummies, rather amused.

"I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention," said Severus, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; it didn't take much for him to have their undivided attention.

"As previously stated, the Patronus Charm is immensely difficult, and requires great focus," he continued. "It requires a very strong memory to conjure a Patronus. As such I want you to take a couple minutes to search for a memory before attempting anything in this class. If a memory doesn't suffice, you will focus on another and try it again. That being said, I do not expect many of you to produce more than a faint mist during this class."

He then paused to let that sink in.

"You will now divide," he went on, "into groups, and form a line behind this practice dummies. You are to take turns casting against it. The incantation is Expecto Patronum. Carry on."

Although Severus did not know it, Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood, and Ginevra Weasley had taught at least half the class (everyone who had been a member of the D.A.) the basics of how to perform a Patronus Charm over the course of the past few years. He had used very similar dummies as well. Not a great many had succeeded in a corporeal Patronus, due to the difficulty, but several could, and a hand full of others were able to form a mist.

This, however, caused Severus to be a bit surprised when he saw a cat and a hog running around his classroom within the first several minutes. Gryffindor did, in any case, end up earning twenty points for their efforts. He wasn't the most reasonable teacher, but to say he wasn't impressed would be a gross understatement.

He had taught this unit before and there wasn't any mist during the first lesson, let alone any fully formed patronuses. To be fair, he also hadn't done a presentation. It was a mark of a powerful, well trained, witch or wizard. As he swept between them as they practised, looking just as much like an overgrown bat as ever, he was reminded of Potter's shield Patronus years earlier. It had been one of the strongest Patronuses he had ever seen. He was pulled out of his musings, lingering to watch two Slytherins struggle with the task.

Both boys, Bennett and Jones were purple in the face. Bennett's lips were tightly compressed, the frustration evident. It was beginning to be very obvious who had been in Potter's defence group which had made several years rather interesting.

"I suggest you attempt to focus on another memory," said Severus, after a while. "It has to be an almost overwhelming memory."

Both students grumbled and went back to their dummy.

"That's the problem with this unit," he thought to himself. "You can only teach it in so far as the concept. They have to be able to actually do it on their own merit."

Pulling himself from his musings, he resumed his rounds. As he turned around, however, he was greeted by a silver owl and found himself knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Severus righted himself, scowling.

Not trusting himself to speak he composed himself for a moment. This would be his luck.

"Very well done to whoever cast that owl," he drawled "Five points. I would like to point out, however, that there is a way to aim your Patronus. Do attempt to do so in the future."

"Sorry, sir," said Chambers, a brunette Slytherin, who was looking a bit sheepish.

Several Slytherins started snickering.

"Don't make a habit of it," he sneered.

Severus was quite happy when the bell finally rang, signalling the end of class.

"Class dismissed," he drawled. "Three feet of parchment, on the effects of dementors, to be due for the following class. You may go."

He watched as all the students scurried out of the room, making their way up to the main floor of the castle. Fully aware that he had the next period free, he decided to make his way to the staff room.

He made his way down the, now, deserted corridor and around a corner, then followed a second. He then stopped right outside the staffroom door.

" _Magistri_ ," said Severus, to the two stone gargoyles guarding the room.

The staff room, a long, panelled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except. Severus then made to sit in a low armchair and pulled out one of his subscriptions from the Potions Guild.

There wasn't anything particularly engaging, this issue, but it was worth a read, nonetheless; even if it was just for the amusement factor. A lot of his fellow Potions Masters were very good, but there was a few that were seen as a joke in the Potions Community. One of the said people featured predominately in this exact issue, and he found some joy in poking holes in the developing theory.

Caius Tugwood, related the late Sacharissa Tugwood, was now trying to improve the Draught of Peace. He was failing miserably, however, and Severus could see some glaring issues with his proposition. The amount of hellebore he wanted to add could interact poorly with the powdered moonstone and powdered unicorn horn if you did not carefully adjust those dosages as well. He accounted for the moonstone but ignored the powdered unicorn horn completely. Severus was also of the mind that you'd have to adjust brewing time slightly and make one or two other small changes to make it the most effective.

He thought it a pity that Tugwood wasn't nearly as skills in potions as his ancestor. To be fair, however, most of her work was in beauty potions. He hardly pictured Caius doing anything of the sort.

He wasn't left alone for long, however, as about fifteen minutes later someone else walked in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth as the Headmistress came in and made to close the door behind him.

"Well I see you're in a good mood this morning," said Minerva, a sarcastic lilt in her voice.

Severus raised his eyes.

"Rough day?" she inquired.

"Well it certainly wasn't one of my favourite units," he said with a snort.

"Of that, I have little doubt," said Minerva. "I hear the seventh-years did rather well though."

"Indeed," he agreed. "I do believe I may have Potter and Ginevra Weasley to thank for that, loathe I am to admit it."

"Dumbledore's Army was rather inventive of them," said Minerva, with a note of pride in her voice. She wasn't one to encourage rule breaking, but this was an exception, and it did a lot of good. Severus was actually impressed with it himself, although it did make things a bit stressful.

"They certainly made things interesting," replied Severus, thoughtfully.

"That they did," she agreed. "I have to say that I was less than fond of your punishments for them, however."

"They were no challenge for Potter's little friends," said Severus, a bit defensively. "Honestly, a little bird told me Potter actually laughed when he heard them. It wasn't anything the group hadn't willingly done several times years previous."

"Too true," she agreed. "How they always managed to find trouble, I'll never know."

"I've been asking myself that same question for years," smirked Severus. "I sincerely doubt we shall find an answer to that anytime soon."

Minerva just rolled her eyes.

After that, it wasn't long before he picked up his books, and made it back to his office in order to prep for his next class. He had second-year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuffs. The irony was that, although Severus had very little patience for the younger years, or in general, they were now the only years that it was well… normal and not… awkward.

Somewhere along the line, he went from heeding Minerva's strongly worded advice about handling the students in the classroom, to actually not wanting them scared of him. He had obviously grown soft. If things kept progressing the way they were, he had little doubt that he would eventually turn into an overly sentimental Hufflepuff; Merlin, save him.

Of course, Severus was never alone long. But this time it wasn't Minerva.

"Lizzy," Severus said with a long forgotten, genuine, smile. "Do come in."

It has been said that the emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it... They may just have a point. After all, it has also been said that time heals all wounds.

"Yes," he thinks to himself. "They may just have a point. _Maybe_."


End file.
